A Woman's Love

A poem by Arthur Conan Doyle

I am not blind I understand;
I see him loyal, good, and wise,
I feel decision in his hand,
I read his honour in his eyes.
Manliest among men is he
With every gift and grace to clothe him;
He never loved a girl but me —
And I I loathe him! loathe him!

The other! Ah! I value him
Precisely at his proper rate,
A creature of caprice and whim,
Unstable, weak, importunate.
His thoughts are set on paltry gain —
You only tell me what I see —
I know him selfish, cold and vain;
But, oh! he's all the world to me!

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'A Woman's Love' by Arthur Conan Doyle

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy